It’s always interesting when you read a book about a well-known event and an entirely different perspective is presented that makes you pause and think. As the cover of this book suggests, it is set in World War II and the narrator is Adam, a 12 year-old Polish boy whose family are uprooted and relocated to various labour camps in Russia.Reminiscent of The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, the main character, an adventurous boy named Adam, has no idea what is actually happening to him; the political background remains unspoken. Of course, as readers in 2012 we know the unspeakable terrors of World War II are not far away.I really like the authentic voice that this character has – he is undeniably his age, and he never quite comes to grip with why the events that unfold in this book (and his life) actually happen. It’s easy to believe in this young character, who is in fact the author’s father.Melinda Szymanik has skilfully managed to recreate her father’s young persona and avoids any temptation to preach, inform, or explain this war. Adam never becomes bitter and jaded, he still notices the small wonders of life and is resolute in his will to survive.The book opens with the family’s idyllic life on a farm awarded to Adam’s father for military service. They are hard working, and enjoy a comfortable and fruitful, if not wealthy, life. But the new authorities have decided the farm should be re-gifted to another man and rather suddenly, the family are ousted from their farm and find themselves heading to places unknown. Their imposed long train journey starts in a cattle wagon and finishes in what appears to be a concentration camp albeit without the gas chambers. Disease, death and hunger accompany this family through their enforced journeys through a vast area we would know as Russia and Persia.Weeks, months and years pass. The end, when it comes, is thrust upon Adam’s family as suddenly as that first train trip was thrust upon them. This plight of displaced persons during World War II makes a sobering read, but this is a tale of survival and although Adam’s family is changed beyond recognition through their experience, there is a happily ever after.

Remember the 1980s when there was a rash of family sagas spanning generations in a single volume? The books were bricks and the TV series went on for weeks. For me, a lover of historical fiction, this was a great time in TV history that this century’s reality TV simply does not even come close to.What I loved about those multi-generational family sagas was the passing on of traits, secrets and folklore, and the longer term implications of behaviours. The contemporary family are clearly linked to their ancestry through the story. Of course, we are all linked in this way, but for the most part I suspect we ignore this expect for a few family occasions each year – Christmas, funerals, octagenarian’s birthdays. And, even then, the stories are often limited to two generations.Tanya Moir has taken the generational family saga and modernised it. Her approach to writing, which is really unique, was a little difficult for me as a reader to comfortably fit into at first, but soon the book enveloped me and I became as attached to the ancestors of Janine (the narrator of this story) herself. And I grew to appreciate Moir’s mastery of her craft.Janine and her mother have turned researching their family into a lifetime mission. They traverse the globe (from Invercargill to London) to search the archives (white gloves in situ) and visit the substantial homes of their ancestors – they find a fortune made from hard work, and acquired through wily acts; and personal characteristics and flaws that they can tangibly recognise. What consumes both mother and daughter is an apparently genetic neurological disease. And, a good dose of madness.Janine interweaves her ancestors into her own story, which is one of escape and isolation. She lives on an island (in Auckland) that is surrounded by a tidal waters and mangroves. Hence the eye-catching underwater photograph of mangroves on cover of the book. But the mangroves are sort of a metaphor (for me at least) of how this story unfolds – mangroves are hardy plants growing in the tidal estuaries; their branches are far reaching and convoluted; new roots and branches keeping popping up all over the place; and the plant (not unlike this family) has to survive the ever-changing tides.It’s obvious really when you think about it, although I guess I had not before now, that when anyone researches their ancestry, a certain dose of fiction comes into play. Deeds, documents and photographs only provide the skeleton of the story. The rest needs to be filled in. And how well this is filled in determines just how interesting ones’s ancestry is. I guess this is the difference between a researcher and storyteller. And Janine (or perhaps more correctly Tanya) is a great story teller. Her story is peppered with scandal, love, sadness, despair and it all remains believable. This could be your family or mine, but it is definitely Janines’s story and she is very lucky to have Tanya Moir tell it for her. Very lucky indeed.Is it obvious that I loved this book? I hope so.

Published by Vintage New ZealandISBN 9781775532019 This review was first published on the booksellers.co.nz blog

I suspect the challenge of writing a book about a museum is nearly as hard as designing the museum itself. There is a tricky pathway to tread between inspiration and boredom, and always way more material than will fit into the confines available (in this case 225 pages). The authors of 100 Amazing Tales From Aotearoa have solved this by choosing 100 short stories featuring terrifically interesting exhibits. And Simon Horton and Riria Hotere bring a fresh approach to the book that allows their quirkiness and sheer fascination with the oddities of our cultural and natural history to emerge.Museums are odd concoctions of competing interests at their very best and Te Papa, our national museum, has the challenge of capturing who we are in a single building. Capturing and preserving stories and artefacts of history, art, culture, and natural history (and more) is a noble pastime. But for the museum staff, this is serious and passionate work. It includes serious research and often years (lifetime careers) of commitment. And I think both the (television) series and this book celebrate this work well.This is not simply a fact-filled book – although there are plenty of those and the supporting photographs are fabulous – it presents the serious information in a fun and enjoyable way. It’s a book that will appeal to adults and children because the mix of information and entertainment is spot on.I particularly liked the way the important information (e.g. cultural history, modern art, sport, natural curiosities, etc) is presented largely from the perspective of human interaction. The stories are as much about the weavers as they are the weaving; about the soldiers as the war; and about the researchers and their work. And that’s why this book is so accessible.There is a wonderful story about the restoration of a samurai suit and the individual layers of cloth, leather and hair that took over two years to complete. The researcher (or should I say detective) used modern X-rays to detect small pieces of metal embedded in the leather suit in the mask. Vital pieces that would, otherwise, remain unseen by the uninformed viewer.Viewers of TV7 will remember the short bites (Tales From Te Papa) that used to appear from time to time on New Zealand’s free public TV network. This new book covers some of the same areas, but is different enough that the two included DVDs enhance the stories not detract. I suspect our family will dip into this book for many years to come.

As remarkable as this sounds, when I first travelled to Australia, at the age of 20, I was taken aback to find that there were a number of James Cook monuments, hotels and the like. And that Joseph Banks was responsible for naming all of their plants too! The problem is that you only know what you know, and what you are taught and exposed to.In my case, post-colonial views of history that seem to only focus on the New Zealand aspects of the voyages, and have removed, or at the very least diminished, certain key history makers from the stories. Tupaia, a noble Polynesian who encountered Captain James Cook in the Tahiti Islands and set sail with him on his journey south aboard the Endeavour, is one of them.Joan Druett clearly sees Tupaia as an extraordinary man whom European history books have not served well. She clearly likes and respects her main character and yes, this biography does read at times like a story – a compelling story too. Druett sets the tone for her book early on when writing about Tupaia:“… he was Tahiti’s highest priest. Then the canoe without an outrigger arrived.”Immediately Druett had my attention and she held it until the end.That the Crew of the Endeavour were not the first Europeans to meet Tupaia was probably “lost in translation”. But, in reality, by the time Cook and Banks arrived, Tupaia had already met and traded with another crew of Englishmen, and a French contingent led by Louis De Bouganville.Regardless of these prior meetings, the meeting of the Endeavour crew on April 11, 1769 was momentous since as Druett puts it “the expectations of all on board had reached a pitch of excitement.” They could never have anticipated that they would sail away with local men on board, who would prove to be crucial for Cook’s navigation of both the South Pacific seas and its people and customs.You know what happened next – the Endeavour crew sailed south to New Zealand. Tupaia, according to Druett’s meticulous research was a key figure on the boat, but he succumbed to illness before arriving back to England, and was almost forgotten in the public aftermath. Almost.This engaging book, has made me reflect on the facts of the Cook voyages; reminding me that there were dozens of people either on board, or that the crew encountered on these great voyages of discovery. Tupaia was just one of them – a translator, astronomer, navigator, artist, mapmaker, geographer – one of a number of remarkable men of the time. And this is his story.

Reading this book some time after its release and well after the first reviews, I feel privileged to not be influenced by other comments. I have few expectations. Seeing comments like ‘sad, pointless lives’ and ‘nothing happens’ made me wonder, did they really read THIS book? Of course others (more like me it seems) said it was ‘exquisite, carefully crafted and entrancing’. And it was all of that and more.The Forrests are an almost normal family that move their family halfway across the world from an affluent New York lifestyle to what ends up being a challenging lifestyle in New Zealand. Emily Perkins is a master of observation and detail. The snippets of the family’s life that are revealed are believable and delicious. My book is dog-eared from all of the times I read a sentence that I wanted to treasure. For example, when describing the first view of the decrepit house where their estranged father was living,‘The no-colour paint on the windowsills and door frame was crackled…‘and, ‘Evelyn unpeeled her sandwich and tweezed out the alfalfa sprouts with her fingertips and dropped them into the sea.‘and, when making a cake,‘In the bowl they created a separated viscous swirl with the creamed-butter mixture, the yolk trailing through the pale butter, the transparent whites floating jellyfishy around the surface.‘Emily Perkins is observant beyond belief, and her descriptions based on these observations, are absorbing. Utterly so. I loved this book that led me through this family’s seemingly ordinary life in a subtle and engrossing way. The reader is drawn into family and invited to fill in the blank between the episodic narrative. This family is neither boring, nor ordinary, but it could be yours or mine. The ending is sad, but so is the ending of most lives. Dot, the mainly main character leaves these pages in a slightly confused way, but I suspect that, too, is the way in which many lives come to the final end.

When I opened the parcel that delivered Kerry Spackman’s latest book The Ant and the Ferrari I was free of preconceptions: I really had no idea what this book was about. Kerry invites readers to explore the way they think; the way they reason; and the way they value knowledge. I guess that the title, The Ant and the Ferrari, is a metaphor r for the minutiae and the big picture. And of course, it is sometimes crucial to look at the minutia in order to fully appreciate the big picture.Last week I conveniently drove past a Ferrari – roof down – trying to exit a parallel parking space in a trendy shopping area. My son (12) was awestruck (naturally) but then he made an interesting comment. He noted that that guy driving “looked rich.” “Ah, yes, he’s driving a Ferrari!” was my reply. But no, he went on to explain – the man’s hair, his clothes, even his sunglasses, told my son something about the social group he was conforming to. Religion is, for many, a social conformation, and that’s where this book begins.I, like many New Zealanders, was born into a Christian family. Christianity is kind of the passive default position for many of us. We haven’t chosen Christianity per se, but are effectively cultural Christians, and belief in creation is assumed. In contrast, belief in evolution is rarely assumed and is in fact an active position that requires defense at times. It’s socially acceptable to attack the non-creationist, yet many of us feel compelled to “not offend” our Christian colleagues, family and friends by telling them that Genesis, as presented in the bible, makes no logical sense.Kerry Spackman’s latest book provides a sound, factual and very readable account of why we need to question our belief system; why we need to examine the ant to understand the Ferrari on which it crawls. This book will confront your belief systems, refreshingly with facts rather than rhetoric.Take for example, Spackman’s approach to the creation/evolution debate. As he gently debunks the creation argument on the basis of science and mathematics, he makes the following observation: “The process of reducing conflicts with our model is called dissonance reduction by psychologists and is an extremely powerful part of our nature.”In other words, when faced with facts that conflict with our belief system, that we cannot reason away, we just choose to ignore them. A short-term solution to quiet our brains, but leaving us devoid of, and still searching for, ultimate truth. And is it possible that there are different versions of the truth, so-called beliefs? As Spackman points out “millions of people’s lives have been ruined by beliefs not founded in truth” using examples such as the persecution of homosexuals, or female circumcision. Spackman starts with the creation of the universe and ends with his views about what is wrong with the rampant capitalism that shapes our modern society – a journey that is easily navigated and worthwhile.The back cover of this book offers the following bold promise “this book will change your beliefs – and change your life” and for the most part I think that’s a reasonable claim. I wouldn’t say it has changed my beliefs entirely, but it has given me some tips and built my confidence in my beliefs. So yes, it will change my life. All thinking adults should know where their beliefs arise from and have the tools to create their own. I will leave the last words of this review to Kerry Spackman himself:“If you think about it, beliefs are even more powerful then nuclear weapons because they shape the actions of everyone who lives on the planet.”

I love the idea of a historical fiction novel that is based on real characters. For me, there’s a sense of immediacy when you open the book, or perhaps it’s simply that the hurdle of believability is removed before you start. But, this type of fiction only works if you have strong characters and a great storyline.This book has both – a young kiwi WWII airman shot down over France and the brave family who help him escape the Germans.When reading these details on the back cover of the book and then learning that the author is the airman’s daughter, my expectations were running high. And I was not disappointed.This is a real story that chronicles the everyday lives of a farming family in German-occupied France. It’s 1942 when the wounded airman’s plane crashes into rural farmland and a French-family decide to help him get back to England. This is no easy task, and requires significant risk-taking, lies and surreptitious behaviour.The book tackles the complex family and village relationships as each individual copes with the German-occupation in their own way. German soldiers have an overbearing presence, seemingly always appearing at the farmhouse unannounced and stopping everyone in the streets to examine their identities. You certainly are left with a strong picture of how the German army embedded themselves into everyday French life.The book is honest and reflective, with a couple of unexpected and satisfying twists at the end; survival is never assumed and certain events remind us of that. Individuals’ actions and cooperation with the Germans are risky, but each villager makes their choices about who and how to support the warring sides.I read the book in single sitting. Emotional at the close, I reflected how I might have reacted given the intolerable situation these people found themselves in and thankful I have never faced such personal tests. Almost any child over the age of 10 could read and enjoy this book, but older readers will appreciate the deeper social context as well.Reviewed by Gillian Torckler

The back cover of this book begins with three thought provoking questions:‘What makes a good doctor?Why are there bad doctors out there still practising?And how can we protect patients, increase trust and improve medical care?’

Important, critical questions that should be of interest to health professionals, patients, and in fact, everyone. As a health professional, I was immediately intrigued. Every health professional knows of someone they would NOT recommend to the family, or worse, someone they would advise their family to avoid at all costs.Ron Paterson (Professor of Health Law and Policy at The University of Auckland) knows better than most what makes a bad doctor; he was after all the New Zealand government’s Health and Disability Commissioner for the first decade of this millennium. He has dealt with many complaints, some substantiated, against health professionals. Paterson draws upon this experience in a balanced and rational way; he interweaves international research and cites numerous New Zealand and international examples and in doing so illustrates the complex situation that health professionals find themselves practicing in.There is little doubt that as the title suggests patients seek (and indeed deserve to have) a good doctor. It is this subjective criterion of good that is challenging and not universally defined There are many definitions of perceived “good” from a patient perspective: good is a doctor who listens to me; good is a doctor who tells me what I should do; good is a doctor who allows me to make an informed choice; good is a doctor who makes no mistakes.What is clear is that many of the high profile cases of medical incompetence are in fact criminal acts, and no credentialing nor registration process will prevent those. So what remains to be devised is a system that protects patients and is supportive and not overly onerous on health professionals. Paterson the HDC adopted the motto “Learning , not lynching, Resolution, not retribution”. A rather balanced view don’t you think? And this should be thoroughly achievable? Not easily.Ron Paterson weaves his way through this complex situation where individual patient management is sometimes not obvious; that a measure of creativity is required; and some mistakes are inevitable. He presents good arguments on all sides.For readers who are not health professionals, this book will cast some light on a professional that they interact with as patients but possibly know little about other than what they see on American-based hospital dramas. He also delves into the area of web-based medical advice and cautions that whilst it is probably okay to take advise about a hotel from tripadvisor.com, the internet may not be the best place to gain individualised medical advice where the inherent risk is potentially much higher. But many health professionals face-off against Doctor Wiki each day, adding a new burdon to their already challenging job.For readers who are health professionals, much of this information will not be new; but the collation of data and encouragement to think beyond today will be refreshing. It’s a relatively easy and thought-provoking read, but not one to consume in a weekend. In fact, I think the longer the book is allowed to percolate through your conscious the better.

Published by Auckland University PressISBN 9781869405922This book was first published on the booksellers.co.nz blog

This engaging story is about a couple of teenage boys coming to terms with all that life throws at modern teenagers – girls, homework, and uncooperative parents. I am reluctant to tell you that the main character Marty has a mild form of autism, because although it is central to the way the story is told and to the way Marty sees the world, the book is not about “dealing with autism”.It is neither condescending nor seeking sympathy. Autism is in the background but only to just explain the unusual and charming way that Marty experiences his world.Marty’s best friend, Luke, is coping with his own issues – he’s lost a lower leg to meningitis – and both get involved with a school based business young enterprise scheme (YES) in part to be close to the girls they are both besotted with. As in real life, Marty has to deal with a number of issues and personal challenges along the way. As their YES project progresses, life’s challenges threaten to overpower their lives. The constant in Marty’s life is his recently deceased grandfather – a rock whose influence was far reaching in the boy’s life and whose absence is sorely missed.This is a story that almost any teenage readers could associate with.Each of the teenage characters, including the flawed but irresistible female muses, is utterly believable. I had fallen in love with Marty by page 10, and really wanted his life issues to be resolved. More importantly I wanted to go on the journey with Marty and see where he ended up. Most teenagers will enjoy sharing Marty’s journey as well and will relate to much of this modern story themselves.

Despite the widespread accolades he has received for his work, Linwood Barclay’s books were not on my radar at all.Barclay writes pacey crime-thrillers, but unlike so many authors crafting works in this genre he does not rely on technology (such as the implausible extraction of nanoparticles of DNA and the like), nor does he rely upon a series unrealistic circumstances and fortunate coincidences.Barclay uses traditional story-telling and relies on the reader’s nous to solve the crimes presented.The result is a thoroughly modern take of an old-fashioned detective story – a riveting storyline, with enough twists to keep you turning the pages, whilst satisfying the reader’s inner detective but saving the best and most surprising twist till the very end. Barclay’s narrative in engrossing; and his characters are utterly believable, even if 3 of them had met their ultimate demise by page 6. The next victim (the main character’s wife) succumbed 17 pages later…The Accident by Linwood Barclay depicts the unraveling of the lives of six small-town couples: a breakdown which is simple and believable (it could happen to any of us) and culminates in the accidental death of the main character’s wife. It is his quest for answers to what seems an improbable accident that reveals the tangle of calamity that has its origins in the counterfeit business – fake designer handbags, fake prescription drugs and fake (non-complying) building products.This undercover market had previously consumed little of my attention, and I certainly was unaware of the size of the counterfeit drug market, but now the implications of these highly illegal activities are resonating with me. So too, is the memory of truck nuts. In fact, I sincerely wish that Linwood Barclay had not enticed me to search the internet for these bizarre (and completely useless) vehicle adornments. Yes, they exist and I can see how their presence in the world would drive an author to devote a proportion of his carefully crafted words to denigrating these puppies to the place they belong. Google truck nuts, I dare you!It is rare that a book both entertains me and resonates. But this book has done both.I shall look for more books by Linwood Barclay and from what I read on the internet, I shall not be disappointed.Published by OrionISBN 9780752897462